


"If I Kiss You Every Time" - A Wayhaught Ficlet Collection

by circlemarriesline



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Ficlet Collection, Gen, Some Canon, some AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-22 02:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7415461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/circlemarriesline/pseuds/circlemarriesline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm getting a bunch of dialogue prompts on my tumblr (slayhaught), so I thought I'd dump them here as well. Each ficlet, posted as a chapter, is a stand-alone fic. Some are canon and some fall into AU territory...enjoy, nerds!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Nope, no way, it’s in the vault forever,” said Nicole. 

“You’re gonna leave me hanging? Come on, this is gold,” said Waverly, sitting up straighter in bed to protest. “Don’t be embarrassed. I’ll take the story to my grave, promise.”  
Nicole shook her head for the second time and moved to shut the laptop between them.  
“Nah, not happening. If anyone’s taking this to their grave, it’s me. And soon, because I’m about to die of shame just thinking about it.”

Waverly sighed in faux exasperation and slid the computer out from under Nicole’s outstretched fingers and onto her lap, peering at the low-res photo on the screen.  
“How old are you here, eighteen?”  
Nicole gave in easily, knowing she would never extinguish Waverly’s unquenchable curiosity.  
“Yup, first year of university,” she said, and admired the way Waverly’s expression changed once she realised she was about to be let in on the secret.  
“And what exactly is going on?” asked Waverly. “You look like you’re being tortured by a gang of invisible elves or something.” Nicole snorted at the imagery.  
“Um, first of all, how dare you?” she asked mockingly. “I’m an excellent dancer. Look at that move.” Waverly’s eyes returned to the photo. A baby-faced Nicole, in her varsity sweats, had struck a pose not unlike Jennifer Beals in Flashdance. Her back was awkwardly arched over a stout hotel room chair, her legs splayed out in front of her, and one arm was raised dramatically over her head, but her expression was closer to the child of the grimacing emoji and someone on the drop of a giant roller coaster. Not pretty. Nicole had forgotten that the evidence of that weekend existed until tonight.

Neither of them could contain their laughter.

“How did this…why did you…?” Waverly struggled to find the question that would explain .  
“It was our rookie weekend for basketball,” Nicole explained. “We were out of town for a game, and the Saturday night got a little rowdy.”  
“I gathered that much,” said Waverly. “How did this,” she pointed to Nicole’s unfortunate pose, “happen?”

Nicole closed her eyes for a moment and recalled how the evening had begun. They had beaten their rivals to clinch a spot in the championship tournament, and the team was riding a high. Most of the players were of age, save for Nicole and two other first-year rookies, so the hotel fridges were stocked with every drink imaginable. A few rounds of “never have I ever” later, the group descended into a movie-inspired dance-off. 

“I was trying to be the fairy godmother from Shrek 2,” Nicole admitted. “And I was all limb at this age. My coordination was terrible - I bailed about two seconds after this was taken.”  
“Had a hard time holding your beer, huh?” Waverly teased.  
“I might have had a few shots for good measure.”  
“You’re my hero,” said Waverly as she hopped off the bed to try the pose herself.


	2. Chapter 2

”Okay, when you say love, do you mean love as in like loving pizza or as in love, love?”  
Waverly smiled and contemplated Wynonna’s question, despite having known the answer well before being asked. She had been waiting for the follow-up to her panicked gunpoint admission for over a week now; at every pause and every lull in conversation, Waverly swore she could feel cogs turning in her sister’s head. 

The empty police station’s dimmed evening lighting reflected soft yellow in both of their tired faces. Digging for Black Badge secrets had taxed them both, and their folding table was looking more and more like a bed with every passing moment.  
“She’s so - I’m…I meant what I said in there,” Waverly said softly. She furrowed her brow. “And also what I didn’t say.”  
Wynonna crinkled her nose in an attempt to decipher what she meant.  
“She makes me feel the way I imagined home should have felt like when we were kids.”  
Tears welled in Wynonna’s eyes. Waverly looked up at her as one left its perch and she watched it fall.  
“I love, love her, Wynonna,” said Waverly.

Wynonna revealed a watery smile. 

A whisper of movement in Waverly’s peripheral vision made her glance over her shoulder to the doorway where Nicole had appeared, clad in jeans and black raincoat with a stack of paperwork under her arm. Her mouth gaped in wonderment.  
“Oh Waves,” she said as she brought a hand softly to her chest, “I love you, too.”

Neither of them said anything more, but the intensity of their shared gaze rivalled the fiery birth of a galaxy. Waverly rose from her chair at the far end of the table and glided toward the door. Nicole dropped the files to the ground with a slap that echoed through the room and down the hall. She reached out and took Waverly’s face in her hands and Waverly’s hands found the small of Nicole’s back through her jacket. The world had disappeared around them. Nicole brushed away a tear from Waverly’s cheek with her thumb. Their lips found each other in slow, magnetic, deliberate movements. 

“Okay, I’m just gonna head out,” said Wynonna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much love to everyone sending me prompts! You complete me!!!
> 
> Get in on the action on tumblr @slayhaught


	3. Chapter 3

Six teenage hearts thudding in a circle in the grass. Someone had rescued a lone green beer bottle from their modest collection of empties and ripped the top flap off of the box. The bottle lay on its side atop the cardboard pedestal at the circle’s centre.

Nicole felt her face absorbing to the residual heat of the day; her world was a gentle haze after a day of sun and beer. She leaned over to whisper to Waverly, who sat beside her in a sundress with her legs folded beneath her. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever played spin the bottle,” she said into Waverly’s hair.  
“I know,” Waverly whispered back. She leaned in further and put a hand on Nicole’s thigh. Nicole’s stomach jumped. “Me neither. And you know what?”  
“What?” Nicole asked breathlessly.  
“Neither has he,” said Waverly, pointing subtly to the boy across from them. He was the ringleader, boisterous with youthful bravado, but wrung his hands and avoided eye contact with most of the group. “And I bet he’s way more nervous than you are.” 

Nicole doubted this very much. She had the first spin. The bottle spun, wobbled, and finally slid off the flat surface and into the grass. It pointed back at her. Well, a little to her left. Directly at Waverly.

The ocean roared within her. Her ears were conchs. Waverly smiled at her, nodding.  
“See,” she said, “not so scary, right? It’s just me.”

Waverly had never been just anyone to Nicole since they met the first week of high school, both terrified and hiding in a quiet hallway at lunch.

They shuffled closer and Waverly leaned in. She never broke eye contact. Nicole took a breath and swallowed hard. Their noses brushed first, then Nicole tilted her chin to find Waverly’s lips. Fireworks behind her eyes, shut the way you do when you make a wish. Riptide through her veins. 

It was quick, but not as quick as it could have been. Their mouths had been slightly open. It felt like the difference between opening a drawer and opening the front door of a home. It would lead to more.

“You’re the only person I want to kiss, anyway,” said Waverly.  
“Me, too,” said Nicole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much love to everyone sending me prompts! You complete me!!!
> 
> Get in on the action on tumblr @slayhaught


	4. Chapter 4

The metallic scratching of key in lock at the front door alerted Waverly to Nicole’s impending arrival, but she remained hunched over her laptop with intense focus. Those old church records weren’t about to translate themselves. 

Nicole burst through the front door with enough force to bowl over a linebacker and dropped about half her weight in outerwear, boots, and utility belt right there in the hall.  
“Why do I even bother doing paperwork if he never reads it? Sure, Nedley, of course I’ll spend an hour going over the files with you! What else could I possibly have to do other than _my damn job_?”  
Nicole let her rant fizzle, groaned, and shook her head.

“Waves, if you were my boss, you’d read my paperwork, right?”  
“Totally, babe” said Waverly without breaking focus.  
“Damn right, because it’s flawless. Detailed, legible, plus I can actually spell, which is unusual in this line of work, apparently.”

Nicole’s socked feet padded into the kitchen and she threw her arms around Waverly’s torso and the back of the oak chair she was occupying.  
“Hi,” she said softly, playfully nuzzling her nose into Waverly’s side braid.  
“Hey,” said Waverly. “Gimme one sec to finish this, then I’m all yours.”

Nicole’s fingers danced over Waverly’s shoulders and up onto her neck. Waverly could feel the restless energy around her, and those hands killed any hope of maintaining her concentration.  
“I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention,” Nicole teased. Waverly laughed.  
“Somehow this needy thing kind of works for you. Don’t ask me why.”  
She planted a kiss on Nicole’s cheek when Nicole bent down to examine the document on the screen.

“Oooo, Latin translations! Can I do one?” she asked. “I’ve been brushing up.” Waverly couldn’t resist the proud smirk on Nicole’s face.  
“Fine,” she said, and pointed to a line on the screen. “Try that one.”  
Nicole sat down, squinted, and mumbled some syllables under her breath. Waverly watched as she leaned further over, as though being closer to the words would somehow reveal their meaning.

A minute of pained expressions and a string of scribbled-out words later, Waverly was prepared to intervene, but Nicole struck the table with her palm in a gesture of triumph.  
“Got it, done, totally nailed it,” she said.  
“Okay, let’s find out si verum est, shall we?” said Waverly with a mischievous wink.  
“If I what?”  
“Never mind.”

Waverly read the final version of Nicole’s sentence and a snort escaped her despite her best effort to suppress it. Nicole laughed along with her.  
“That bad, huh?”  
Waverly savoured the sound of their laughter’s warped harmonies and brushed a loose strand of hair away from Nicole’s face.  
“It’s not that you’re wrong, exactly, you’re just extremely not right.”  
“Are you saying I don’t have a future in dead languages?”  
“Maybe stick to English for now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much love to everyone sending me prompts! You complete me!!!
> 
> Get in on the action on tumblr @slayhaught


	5. Chapter 5

The winter deep freeze broke quickly when the chinook winds blew in. Nicole and Waverly watched the earth go from white to brown to green in a matter of weeks, eyeing its progress from Waverly’s bedroom window each morning.

Today, they had both relished sleeping in well past when they would normally rise. It was Saturday.

“You know what we should do today?” Nicole asked with the lag of sleep still on her tongue.  
“What?” said Waverly. Her voice was muffled by the mountain of duvet around her.   
“We should go for a hike. You know, see some nature and stuff. Snow’s pretty much gone from the foothills now.” Nicole propped herself up on her elbow. “We can bring a lunch, it’ll be fun.”

Waverly began to emerge from her cocoon. She squinted against the mid-morning sun and studied Nicole for a moment.

“Okay, what’s in it for me?” she asked. Nicole gave an incredulous laugh.  
“You mean other than spending a very romantic day with me, surrounded by the raw beauty of our local mountain range and boreal forests?”  
“Oh my god,” Waverly said, rolling her eyes. “How long have you been waiting to drop that line on me?”  
Nicole shrugged playfully and grinned.  
“Eight to ten hours, give or take.”   
“Well,” she said, shaking the sleepy fog from her head, “it worked. I’m ready to touch some moss now, you know? Dip my toe in a glacial pond, make friends with a bird, climb a tree as high as I can and yell so it echoes against the mountains,” said Waverly, now awake. Nicole couldn’t tell if she was mocking her, but she loved the way Waverly’s face lit up when she got going like this.  
“And,” Waverly continued, “we can carve our initials into the top of the big rocks on the side of the highway.” 

“Sorry to spoil your plans here, Waves, but those rocks are massive and you’re like, five feet tall. How you gonna reach?”   
Waverly pouted and glared half-seriously at Nicole.  
“Or I guess we could do it on a tree tree trunk or something instead.” She stretched, laid her head on Nicole’s chest, and settled into the warm covers once again.

Nicole hummed in delight, then nudged Waverly toward the edge of the bed.  
“Come on, babe, your bird friends are waiting. I’ll make some coffee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much love to everyone sending me prompts! You complete me!!!
> 
> Get in on the action on tumblr @slayhaught


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part One: In which Nicole and Wynonna go undercover at a gay bar in the city and proceed to Get Into Trouble™
> 
> Part Two: In which Nicole works for Waverly’s forgiveness after said Trouble™

Part One

“How come you get to drive?” Wynonna complained loudly from the passenger seat. She fiddled with the radio controls and flipped through station after station. Her free hand played with the leather tassels on her jacket. It was another hour to the city, but there was no traffic. It was smooth sailing Friday nights at ten. But it was also Friday night. She silently cursed Dolls for enforcing a strict mandate of sobriety on the stakeout.  
“Because I literally drive around for a living making people pay money to the government if they don’t follow the rules,” replied Nicole. “And we both know you don’t follow the rules.”  
Wynonna opened her mouth in protest.  
“I do so,” she said, offended, “most of the time.” She stopped to reconsider her position. “Okay fine, whatever, be right, it’s not like you’ve never rolled through a stop sign.” She abandoned the search for music and rolled down the window. Cool spring air swept in and sent their hair billowing in front of their faces and Nicole swatted at Wynonna’s arm before using the driver’s side controls to restore order.

“Jesus, we’re on the highway. Chill out.”  
“No need to call me Jesus,” Wynonna quipped. Nicole rolled her eyes.  
“Good one.” Her long vowels oozed sarcasm. “Seriously, Earp, what’s going on with you?”  
Wynonna gritted her teeth and drew a long breath.  
“I’ve never been to a gay bar before.”  
“Oh,” said Nicole, expecting a more shocking revelation. She glanced sideways. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. You’re not gonna be marked as prey for some predatory lesbian or anything.”  
The joke didn’t land. She tried again.  
“Everyone’s super respectful there. And we’ll be in and out in an hour if all goes well.”  
Wynonna still wore an expression that Nicole read as concerned. Potentially embarrassed.

“It’s gonna be so obvious that I’m…that I don’t belong there.”  
Everything made sense. Nicole gave Wynonna’s forearm a squeeze of recognition.  
“Just pretend to be my date,” said Nicole, “we’ll walk in together and head to the dance floor, no big deal. Our dealer will do a lap around 11:30 and if we’re lucky we can get a good look at what she’s selling. You won’t have to engage with anyone, it’s recon only.”  
Wynonna thought about it.  
“Wait, we’re dancing?” she asked.  
“The dance floor is where all of her sales go down, it’s our best bet.”  
“Sober? We have to dance and we can’t have a little,” she mimed doing a shot.  
“That’s not my jurisdiction, unfortunately.”  
“No shit, Haughtpants.”

Their conversation lapsed into half-hearted singing along to a few classic rock tunes, then a full-belt version of a Shania Twain song both of them had forgotten about since the early 2000s as they cruised into the city centre. Nicole steered the SUV into a parking lot across the street from the club. She sent a quick text to Waverly letting her know when she expected to get home. 

[1am latest, we’re just getting eyes on the product]

 “Ready, partner?” she asked when she finished.  
“Is that a gay play on words?” Wynonna chided back.  
“Oh my god, let’s go.”  
“Because it’s a good one.”  
Nicole wondered if her eye roll could be seen from space.

Deep bass rumbled through ever corner of the cavernous club’s two levels. The soles of Nicole’s feet buzzed and thumped along with it. Well-worn pop choruses drew patrons onto the dance floor in a swirling frenzy. The floor held on to their shoes a little tighter after years’ worth of spilled drinks became a sticky layer over painted concrete.

“So since I’m your date,” yelled Wynonna into Nicole’s ear through the music, “does that mean we have to like, touch and stuff?”  
“You really don’t know what to do in here, do you?” said Nicole. She took hold of Wynonna’s hand and pulled her toward the centre of the crowd. “Just follow my lead, okay?”

They soon found their groove, despite Wynonna's reluctance to express any iota of affection to anyone but herself. Nicole’s moves were all footwork and body rolls, while Wynonna threw her arms above her head and ran her fingers through her loose curls, but they both kept a watchful eye on their surroundings. The dealer they were after was due to arrive any minute.

They danced, rotating around one another to watch every exit. No sign of their mark; it was past her usual arrival time, according to their source. 11:30, 11:40, midnight, 12:15. No appearance. Wynonna checked her phone and gestured to Nicole to come closer.  
“I don’t think she’s coming. You think we were made?”  
“Hard to know,” said Nicole, scanning the room, “but I think we’re out of luck. There’s no way she shows up this late, it’s way out of character.”  
Wynonna looked at her expectantly and walked backwards away from her.  
“You know what that means,” she said. “We’re off the clock…partner.” Nicole watched her spin and make a beeline for the bar. She followed.

“You wanna stay?” Nicole asked in disbelief.  
Wynonna shrugged at her.  
“You don’t?” she replied. “It’s Friday night, we’re in a club with no creepy dudes in our business, and look,” she pointed to the twin shots the bartender was pouring, “they have drinks.”  
Nicole couldn’t argue with that logic.  
“What are we having?”  
“Starting easy,” Wynonna said as she closed Nicole’s hand around the shot glass and pulled a bowl of sliced limes toward them. “Tequila. Cheers.”

Nicole grimaced through the burn and let her mouth pucker around the lime wedge.  
“Easy, right,” she said.  
Before she could protest, Wynonna had waved the bartender over and ordered another round. “I have to drive home, Wynonna.”  
“Not after two shots, you won’t,” Wynonna countered. She slid another glass over to where Nicole’s elbow was resting on the bar. “Live a little. Cheers again,” she said. They slammed their empty glasses down on in unison.

The bartender lingered and Wynonna started to chat with her. Nicole, savouring the heat in her belly, leaned back against the bar to survey the room. She had forgotten the feeling of safety she had when she was surrounded by her tribe; the joy she felt witnessing people expressing their identities without judgment or ridicule. That was her not so many years ago, awkwardly navigating her first attempt at a date with a woman in this very club. It had been petrifying, but even then she had understood how lucky she was to have the space at all. Her thoughts drifted to Waverly, whom she thought would love it here, with its industrial construction and campy details. And the giant dance floor with platforms and poles and coloured spotlights that seemed to follow you around and illuminate the moments you wanted to remember most. Waverly was such a good dancer. 

Her ears perked up when the DJ mixed in the next beat and she turned to Wynonna, who was dropping a fistful of change in the tip jar.  
“I love this song,” said Nicole.  
“Hope you brought your dancing pants.”  
They ventured back into the crowd, both now beginning to feel the effects of their liquid courage.

Forty minutes, three more shots, and six missed texts from Waverly later, Nicole and Wynonna had nearly sweat through their t-shirts in the dense crowd. Wynonna tugged Nicole back to the bar by one of her front belt loops for a break.

“Not so bad, is it?” Nicole slurred slightly.  
“What isn’t?”  
“Hangin’ out in a gay bar.”  
“I don’t know why I didn’t try it earlier, to be honest…” Wynonna trailed off at the sight of Nicole’s raised eyebrows. She leaned in. “Yeah, yeah, don’t make a joke, you know what I mean.”  
Nicole raised her hands in defence, and clumsily grazed the back pocket of Wynonna’s jeans in the process. She tipped her head back and laughed, giving the spot a couple of pats for good measure.  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to touch your butt,” she said.  
“You sure you’re into my sister? ‘Cause you seem to have a thing for my assets,” Wynonna said. She made an exaggerated nod with her head down to where the contact had occurred.  
“Just had to confirm it’s as top shelf as I thought. Now at least I’ve felt for myself,” Nicole joked.

“You know, you’re awfully handsy when you’re drunk—”  
“I’m not drunk, Earp, you’re drunk.”  
“Okay,” Wynonna said with derision, “you keep telling yourself that. But we gotta settle the score here. You,” she pushed her index finger into Nicole’s shoulder, “got to grab my ass.”  
“Excuse you, there was no grabbing—”  
“So what do I get? Can I touch your boob or what?”  
Nicole’s uncontrollable laughter came out a bark followed by silent wheezing and she had to rest her hands on her thighs for support while she sucked in air.  
“Apparently it’s open season in here tonight, so go for it,” she said after recovering, and extended her arms to their full wingspan.  
“Maybe I’ll find out what all the fuss is about,” said Wynonna as she reached out to pat the front of Nicole’s shirt. She paused with her hand gently cupping Nicole’s left breast and considered it for a second. “Shit, I dunno. It’s a great rack but, like, I don’t really get the appeal.”  
“That’s ‘cause you’re straight, Wynonna.”  
“I guess, but I never really spent any time around them to know for sure, you know?”  
“Did you ever think you weren’t straight?”  
“Not really, but I haven’t really thought too hard about it. I’m open to stuff.”  
“Stuff.”  
“Yeah like, whatever. I wasn’t gonna rule it out,” Wynonna said.  
Nicole examined her through squinted eyes, then realized Wynonna hadn’t yet retracted her hand.  
“You can have that back now,” she said.  
“True. Thanks, boss,” said Wynonna, who winked lazily back at her then turned to the bar in search of another round. Two more shots soon appeared before them.

“To you,” said Wynonna, toasting.  
“To me?”  
“To the gays, to Waverly, to you and Waverly together, to everyone in this bar,” she continued. “To dancing, to the hot bartender, and,” she pointed across the room to the raised platform, “to DJ Whatserface with the cool tats.” She leaned in to speak into Nicole’s loose hair. “To the new dream team, fighting crime and lookin’ cool doin’ it.”  
“I’ll drink to that,” said Nicole with a nod of approval. “Cheers.” Another round down the hatch. They headed back out onto the dance floor. 

Part Two

Nicole cracked an eyelid open and winced at the seatbelt buckle pressed into her hip. A phone buzzed twice in the cupholder and Wynonna was reclined in the passenger seat, snoring over it. Nicole’s head pounded and the light that poured into the heavily tinted windows felt too bright. She sat up in her makeshift bed, the back row of seats, and rubbed the focus back into her eyes. Her mouth tasted like the ghost of hangovers past had moved in and brought her friends, the sphinx, complete with sand, and the Pacific Ocean garbage patch. She regretted not keeping a water bottle in her purse. Her phone had died at some point through the night; it was wedged under the backrest of the driver’s seat.

“Wynonna,” she said groggily. “I think your phone was ringing.” She gently shook Wynonna’s shoulder. “Hey, Earp, rise and shine.” Nicole felt like neither rising nor shining, but they had just spent the night in a parking lot an hour and a half from home and they both badly needed a shower.

Wynonna stirred and groped for her phone.  
“Shit, what time is it?”  
“I dunno,” said Nicole, fishing in her pockets for the car keys, “but we gotta get going.”  
“Double shit,” said Wynonna. She showed Nicole her phone’s lock screen. Not only was it almost ten, but there were dozens of notifications from Waverly, all calls and texts asking where they were.

“We didn’t tell her—” Nicole started.  
“She’s gonna be pissed. This wasn’t part of the plan.”  
“I’ll call her,” mumbled Nicole. If she hated anything, it was disappointing people, and the last person on earth she wanted to disappoint was Waverly Earp. “Can I use your phone?”  
Wynonna passed it to her and Nicole clambered out the door. The world wobbled slightly as she found her feet beneath her.

———  
Nicole braced herself against the truck with one hand and held the phone to her ear with the other.  
“You didn’t call and you always call,” said Waverly tightly. “What if the mission went south? What if you’d gotten hurt? What if Wynonna was taken again—” Nicole could hear her fighting back tears. “I’m not mad at you, I just…we’re supposed to be a team.”  
“I know, Waves, I’m so sorry.”  
“I expect this sort of thing from Wynonna, but not from you.” Nicole’s heart sunk. That one stung. “You’re lucky I didn’t send in the cavalry.”  
Neither of them spoke for a moment. She watched Wynonna pace around a few parking spaces over.  
“We’re coming home now,” she said quietly. “Do you need anything?”  
“Yeah,” Waverly snapped, “let me know if you stop for a couple of rounds of moonshine on the side of the road.”  
Nicole felt a lump rise in her throat. Her eyes prickled with the seedlings of tears and she blinked them away.  
“Okay,” she whispered. “See you soon, then.”  
“Sure,” said Waverly, and three beeps notified Nicole that the call had ended.

Wynonna wandered back over.  
“She mad?” she asked. Nicole nodded and didn’t look up.  
“Yeah.”  
“Kid can be brutal sometimes.” She pressed her hand to Nicole’s arm in a gesture of comfort. “Let’s go.”

———

When they arrived back at the station, Wynonna went inside to meet Dolls, and Nicole swapped the SUV keys for those of her cruiser. She got in, dropped her belongings on the passenger seat, shut the door, and sat with her forehead pressed against the steering wheel’s cool leather for a few minutes. The sick feeling in her body only punctuated the emotional beating she had been dealing herself all morning; a war was raging within her between knowing she had been reckless and selfish, and accepting that humans were messy sometimes. Waverly, of all people, knew all about that fight - all you had to do was look at her family. 

Two loud taps on the window woke her from her half-sleep. It was Wynonna with a travel mug.  
“Thought you might need this,” Wynonna’s muffled voice trickled through the glass. Nicole opened the door and gratefully accepted it.  
“You going to the homestead?” asked Nicole.  
“In a bit. Are you?”  
“Heading over now, I think.” She offered a small smile. “Got a fence to mend.”  
Wynonna returned the look and turned to go.  
“Oh,” she added, “thanks for last night, by the way. Most fun I’ve had with a cop in ages.”  
She started to walk back toward the station, but paused again and spoke over her shoulder.  
“Waverly’s favourite movie scene growing up was that one in Princess Diaries where the guy brings Anne Hathaway a pizza with ‘sorry’ spelled out in M&Ms. She always wished someone would do that for her.” She winked and made her way inside.

Half an hour later, the cruiser tires crunched onto Earp land. Nicole knocked on the door, aware of her heartbeat in the pads of her fingers. Waverly opened the door with one arm wrapped around her torso. She first met Nicole’s gentle expression with vacant, hurt eyes, but they soon dropped to the flat box pressed against her waist. She raised an eyebrow at it.  
“Not exactly what I was expecting,” Waverly said under her breath.

Nicole couldn’t keep her despair inside for a second longer. Words spit from her lips without warning.  
“This is an apology pizza. Please take it or I’ll start crying right here.” She opened the box to reveal a hastily arranged ‘sorry’ atop a cheese pizza. The colouring had leached into the grease a bit to form little pools of blue, green, yellow, red, and brown. Not exactly how it worked in the movie, but it was the best Nicole could do.  
Waverly looked up at her, amused.  
“Are you Michael Moscovitz-ing me?”  
“How could I not? It’s an iconic scene from a cinematic masterpiece.”  
“Wynonna put you up to this, didn’t she?” Waverly said skeptically. She gestured for Nicole to come inside and she shut the door behind her.  
“She may have played a role,” Nicole responded, “but I put in the legwork.” She paused. “I really am sorry, Wave.”  
“I know you are.”  
They sat down beside each other on the couch and Nicole started to pick M&Ms off the pizza and depositing them into her mouth one by one. Waverly took a slice. They chewed in silence until Nicole looked over to see a tear run down Waverly’s cheek and land on her chest.

“Oh, baby, come here,” Nicole soothed. She slid closer and wrapped her arms around Waverly’s tiny frame.  
“I can’t lose anyone else,” breathed Waverly.  
“You’re not losing me.”  
Waverly folded herself into Nicole’s lap and laid her head on Nicole’s chest.  
“You scared me.”  
“I’m not going anywhere.”


	7. Chapter 7

"Lean back further, I can't see," Nicole instructed. She had arranged Waverly in a kitchen chair near the big window over the sink, where she thought she could get the best light. Her latex-gloved fingers gently pulled Waverly's cheek away from her meticulously maintained teeth and she examined the trouble spot.  
"It doesn't look like there's anything cut in there, as far as I can tell." A prod caused Waverly to buck slightly at the pain and twist her head away.  
"Ow, careful. You're paying for my dentist visit if you make it worse."  
"If you can prove," Nicole said slowly as she gently turned Waverly's face back towards her and peered in once again, "that my looking into your mouth made it worse, by all means. You can tell them to bill me directly."  
She pressed gingerly near the angry gum line once again.

"Quit it or I'll bite," said Waverly around Nicole's hand.  
"What's that saying again?" Nicole replied casually."Don't bite that hand that fucks you?"  
Waverly's eyes widened to dinner plates. She chortled and winked in jest, but a flush of pink on her cheeks betrayed a secondary response.

It was short-lived. Another sharp pain caused her to try to pull away again, this time with more force.  
_"Ow, could you not-"_  
"Aha! The culprit." Nicole released Waverly's face from her hands and revealed a tiny shard of popcorn kernel on her fingertip.  
"That's it?" asked Waverly, reaching for her water glass on the counter.  
"What do you mean, 'that's it'? I nearly had to sedate you to get this bugger out. That'll be three hundred bucks for the extraction, by the way," said Nicole. She peeled off her gloves and tossed them into the garbage, basketball style.

"I don't really have that kind of cash laying around," said Waverly, "but I can think of some other ways I could repay you." She used the front of Nicole's shirt to pull herself out of the chair and stood close. "What's that worth to you?" she whispered.  
"I think you'll cover it."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paramedic AU - Nicole responds to a call at her apartment building. It's Waverly, who had just moved in.  
> [This turned into a longer piece called "First Response" - check that out, too!]

“Waverly,” Nicole said, “don’t try to move, okay? My name is Nicole, I’m a paramedic. Do you know what day it is?”  
“It really hurts,” sputtered Waverly. “I - I think I need to go, there was fighting…” She clutched the sleeve of Nicole’s shirt with her outstretched arm and struggled against Nicole’s hands, trying to sit up but bound by the backboard. Her breathing had become ragged. Nicole could feel the electric panic in her.  
“Easy, easy, you’re okay,” Nicole soothed, “keep breathing. You’re safe.” Her voice was calm but her hands worked quickly to clean the wound. “Do you know where you are?”

“Yeah,” she said groggily, "outside my building."

“Can you tell me what you’re feeling other than pain where I’m treating? Do you feel nauseous at all?” She bent further over at Waverly’s side to continue cleaning to the site, but maintained regular eye contact.  
“My head hurts,” she mumbled, “and I’m a little dizzy, but not really nauseous.”  
“Okay, what about your arms and legs - are they tingly? Can you wiggle your toes?”  
“Uh huh.” Nicole looked down to see Waverly’s feet bending and flexing in her sandals. She started to experiment with engaging her calves and Nicole watched her muscles ripple up her legs under her cotton leggings.  
“Nice, that’s great. Any pain when you do that?”  
“Not really.”  
“That’s good news, partner.”

Unbeknownst to Nicole, who was still patching her side, Waverly had released her grip from Nicole’s sleeve and let her hand fall lightly on Nicole’s back to where the end of her braid fell.

“Your hair is so soft,” Waverly whispered. “I wanted to touch it when we met.”  
Nicole was in the midst of pressing a strip of tape over gauze and exposed skin. She stopped in her tracks, floored. She was acutely aware of how close she was to Waverly’s face.  
“You remember me?” she gaped.  
“Who could forget?” A touch of pink returned to Waverly’s cheeks and her mouth curled up into a small smile.  
Nicole’s ears burned and she had to look away to avoid going up in flames, though she was well aware Waverly would catch a glimpse of her grin.

**Author's Note:**

> "What is the one most important thing our society needs?"  
> "That would be harsher penalties for parole violators, Stan."  
> [crowd is silent]  
> "And more Wayhaught fic!"  
> [crowd goes wild]


End file.
